


The Perfect History of Mistletoe

by kittyofnight



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Now going through a year of holidays, Post-Season/Series 02, Season 3 fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2020-10-01 16:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20340079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyofnight/pseuds/kittyofnight
Summary: It starts with mistletoe and stories that are hard to believe.  It doesn't end there though.





	1. The Perfect History of Mistletoe

*****Wednesday, December 19th, 1984*****

*****Billy*****

“Not so fast, King Steve. Can’t ignore the  _ mistletoe _ ,” Billy scolded.

“It’s a stupid tradition that is just to trick a girl into kissing you and like… subjugating women.”

There were no girls around right then. Basketball practice ended not long ago, and if Harrington didn’t have something going on with the kids, he was always the last one out lately. He’d seem to lose himself under the water, not paying a bit of attention to anyone else. He was easy to lure away afterwards by a mysterious noise that of course  _ White Knight Steve Harrington _ would investigate.

“Big word, Harrington. Do you want to know some  _ real _ mistletoe history?”

“Why would I believe you’d know something like that, Hargrove? And why would I care?”

“Hey, I know a lot of things,” Billy objected. And Harrington could have already walked away. Though he didn’t think walking away was Harrington’s style. “Now the Greeks, that might be the history you’d expect. Kissing under the mistletoe was part of Saturnalia- think Christmas before Christmas- and the plant was associated with fertility. Though it is worth mentioning that the Greeks got on with a  _ lot _ of action that didn’t have anything to do with fertility- and from your blush, I gather that you’ve heard that bit of history.”

“Yeah, and it was like older men and younger boys, so totally predatory. And don’t you fucking  _ dare _ make a joke about those kids, Hargrove,” Harrington said, taking a couple steps past him there. Forward, not back. But he wasn’t really going anywhere.

“ _ Relax _ , Stevo. Everyone can tell you’re a mother to those kids, not the creepy family friend you grew up calling uncle,” Billy said. Harrington blinked several times, like he was trying to figure out if Billy was basing that on life experience. He wondered what Steve would do with that information if it were true. Try to look after him like one of his kids?

“Now the  _ Romans _ , they had a different tradition. Enemies at war would reconcile their shit under mistletoe because it represented peace. Want a piece?” he asked. He enjoyed the little pun in his head. Harrington didn’t say anything, but he was listening.

“The Norse have a myth about mistletoe too. Norse mythology is highly underrated by the way. So Loki- god of mischief, kills Baldr, the beloved beautiful son of Frigga and Odin, with this mistletoe spear, because Frigga had already made all the other plants promise not to hurt her precious son. Well, actually he tricks Baldr’s brother into doing it, because yeah, god of mischief.”

“Anyway, Frigga brings her son back to life and declares that anyone who stands under the mistletoe deserves protection from death, and a kiss,” Billy told the version of the tale that worked best for him. Maybe he’d done a fair amount of research. It had been interesting. Norse gods were cool. “Interested in some protection from death, Harrington?” Billy asked him.

“How do you know this?” Steve asked. “You’ve got to be bullshitting. No way.”

“I read a book on the origins of Christian imagery, and it had a chapter on mistletoe. Can tell you about holly too, but it’s a lot less interesting. And Christmas trees, and celtic knots, and different types of crosses. It’s in the Hawkins library if you want to check it out yourself. I’ve also read multiple books on Greek, Roman, and Norse history and mythology. Honestly, the library will buy just about any book you want if you’ve got it referenced in another book and are interested in reading it. I’ve read a hell of a lot since coming to this town where nothing happens. Except i’m pretty sure something damned big happened last month, and it gives Max nightmares, and Max is a tough kid. I’m even pretty sure it’s connected to whatever happened to little Byers last year. And the Holland girl, and I don’t think it was chemicals. Damn, your face is easy to read. I promise to not ask specifics, alright? Least not tonight.”

“So reassuring,” Harrington said. It wasn’t much of a comeback.

“So, how about it? What are you looking for, King Steve? Want to go find a girl you don’t care about and drag her over here for some fertility wishes? Or are you looking for some peace between us? I’ll even apologize for what I did to your face. In way of explanation, though not really defense, my dad had been slapping me around for losing Max, when I was supposed to have a date to fuck this chick I didn’t like, but hey, not a bad tension release. And instead, my dad was screaming at me and calling me a faggot, because that’s the quality parent he is. And I couldn’t find Max, and was actually getting worried, and Mrs. Wheeler clearly wanted to fuck me, and I was too amped up to see straight by the time I got to Byers’s, and the house looked fucking insane. And if my dad sees Max with that black kid, he’s going to take it out on my back. Because I should have been able to  _ control _ her better. And because most of the time he’d know that he’d go to jail if he lynched the kid like he’d want to. And Max just doesn’t want to know what he’s like, but she  _ knows _ . So, I figure something pretty bad happened to give her nightmares, because she’s not a sheltered little girl just because he’s never hit  _ her _ . Or how about some mythical protection against death? Feels like that makes about as much sense as anything else sometimes,” he shrugs.

“Dustin doesn’t like the librarian,” Steve said. Which didn’t really fit the conversation anymore. Billy rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

“There’s more than one librarian. And those kids of yours are the reason that people have a five book limit when it used to be twenty. I don’t know what they did, but I had to do a lot of sweet talking, or I’d have to go way too often. They’re nice ladies. Evelyn and Sharron respond well to a bit of flirting. Marissa just wants respect. And you avoided my question.”

“Who wouldn’t want some protection against death?” Steve said.

“That’s what I thought,” Billy agreed smugly, taking two steps forward. Neither of them were really under the mistletoe anymore, but he really didn’t give a shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited:This was originally a one shot, but has now been expanded. I hope you enjoy! Kudos and comments always appreciated!
> 
> Honestly, this story (the one shot) just came together too perfectly and demanded to be written. I was trying to think of who to put together under mistletoe, and these two were on my mind, and then when I read the actual history and myths of mistletoe, it was just too perfect, each version more perfect than the last. I read an article written by Lily Norton, so thanks to her, and then I did some further research as well.


	2. Martin Luther King Jr. Day- Mardi Gras

*****Monday, January 21st, 1985*****

*****Steve*****

“You know what today is?” Billy Hargrove asked him out of nowhere. They didn’t really talk. Like ever. Sometimes recently Hargrove- Billy- would nod at him, and Steve would nod back. They had… peace, probably.

“Uh- Monday the… twenty-first?” Steve said, which definitely wasn’t the answer. Steve was lingering after basketball practice because he had some time to kill before picking up the kids. It was too cold for them to bike- or for him to be willing to _ see _ them all biking. Billy was probably lingering for Max for the same reason.

“Martin Luther King Jr. Day,” Billy informed him.

“Uh, yeah, I remember. That’s like… official this year?” Steve asked. His mother had been impassioned over it one evening when she was tipsy.

“Federally official next year,” Billy said.

“I wonder if kids will get off school for it. Too late for me. And- can I pretend that I said something- _ anything- _ better instead of that?”

“I apologized to the Sinclair kid,” Billy said.

“Yeah? That’s good of you. It ah- was a bad day, yeah? But I didn’t actually think you had a problem with him because he’s black. You’ve never treated Joey or Coach Ness any different.”

“Hawkins is a really fucking white town. More of everyone else out in Cali. One of the things my old man likes about this place,” he said, and Steve had known that part from… that other day. Billy wasn’t done talking. “But now I’ve told Sinclair and Max that, instead of just being shit. And she’s gonna stop it with the public displays- which is shit, I know, but we both have to still live with the man.”

“You’re eighteen, yeah?” Steve checked.

“Still a junior,” Billy shrugged. “Would like to graduate to make something half decent of myself.

“I think you’re older than I am. Did you... do kindergarten twice or something? No way you ever got held back.”

Billy looked everywhere else. “Didn’t really _ do _ elementary school at all. Not consistently. They moved around a lot, and sometimes didn’t get me registered, sometimes they did. My mom was scared of the government and thought school would teach me bad things. My dad wasn’t big on anyone- including the government- telling him what to do. Sometimes I got dropped off at a random school that didn’t have my name listed anywhere. Got real good at lying and sweet talking adults.”

“You… never talk about her.” Steve had sort of figured she’d died, or she’d have custody, wouldn’t she? Certainly over Neil Hargrove.

“She’s in prison,” Billy said.

“Ah… sorry.” Shit. Guy couldn’t catch a break.

“She seemed like a good mom. Told me she loved me all the time, and she never hit me. My dad did- when he was around- which wasn’t often back then. He was always getting a new job somewhere else, and we’d follow if he didn’t lose it in the first week. Sometimes they were just drinking binges he called jobs,” Billy said.

“Sorry,” Steve said. Not really sure which part it was for. All of it, really.

“He cheated on her with this neighborhood girl- barely eighteen- who was supposed to be my babysitter sometimes, though she was shitty at that. I’m sure he cheated on my mom a lot when he left the house, but he hadn’t in our town, in our apartment. I told mom about them and that I wanted us to move out. My mom went and drove off, hit the girl- with the car- twice- until she was dead, and she’ll be in prison for… I don’t really know how long. I haven’t seen her since then. Phone call on her birthday.”

That was… heavy stuff.

“You know it’s not important how she found out, right? That it was in no way your fault?” Steve dove straight in, hoping it wouldn’t get him a black eye.

“Some days I know that,” Billy answered, walking out.

*****Saturday, February 2nd, 1985*****

“It’s ah- Groundhog Day. And ah- Puxatauney Phil saw his shadow. Do you know what that means?” Steve asked. They were both waiting to pick kids up from the arcade. Steve might have gotten there early and stood outside his car in the cold. But Billy didn’t have to park right next to him. Or get out. The guy’s coat wasn’t thick enough, but he did it anyway. Maybe to talk to Steve.

“It’s fucking _ Indiana_. We were going to get at least six more weeks of winter anyway,” Billy said, but he was smiling. “You research and watch the news this morning just for that?”

“Ah- not a lot of research, but I made sure not to forget the day. And ah- even if _ Phil _’s a bad weatherman, it’s pretty fun, I think.”

“Probably sixty degrees on a beach somewhere in Cali right now.”

“There’s some fun in praying for a snow day. And snowmen and snowball fights are the best. The cold days without snow suck though, yeah… or when the piles of snow get old and dirty and still haven’t melted in late March… And snow angels are overrated and make you cold. But there’s some good stuff.”

“You _ prepared _ for a weird holiday conversation,” Billy pointed out, nudging Steve with his elbow.

“Like you didn’t?” Steve asked. Had he? Was it still at coincidence level? The… mistletoe thing wasn’t really on Christmas, and they didn’t see each other on New Years. But there’s been the Martin Luther King Jr. stuff. Was it weird for Steve to do it?

“Crazy Germans brought the tradition over. But back home, they used a badger- which is a scary, teritorial fucker.”

“I saw those teeth on that groundhog. I’m not sticking _ my _ hand anywhere to grab that guy.”

Billy looked unimpressed. “As if you haven’t stared down some kind of secret mysterious shit- probably weilding a fucking _ baseball bat _?”

“Ah… was Nancy’s bat. And I think Jonathan put the nails in it… but it _ is _ mine now… it’s ah- in my trunk- like all the time- and… yeah, I’ve swung at stuff scarier than a groundhog,” Steve admitted.

“That night I beat your face in?” Billy challenged.

“You- ah… weren’t the scariest thing I saw that day- actually, I saw worse before and after. Though maybe you _ should _ have been the scariest, because I hardly got hurt by the other stuff, even after I was messed up.”

“Sorry,” Billy murmured.

“Pretty sure we made peace a while back, yeah? Something about the Romans?” Steve said tensely.

“Really? Roman? Thought you were more a fan of _ Norse _ tradition?” Billy teased.

“They were- pretty cool too,” Steve said, heat in his face.

Five kids burst out running from the arcade before they had to worry about further conversation.

*****Tuesday, February 12th, 1985*****

Valentine’s Day was in two days, and Steve had spent the last ten thinking about it. Hell, maybe he’d thought about it for longer than that. Last year, he’d been dating Nancy. Blissfully unaware that their relationship was bullshit. That he was bullshit, that _ everything _ was _ bullshit_.

And now… he was doing this weird thing with… Billy Hargrove. Weird like sort of teasing instead of outright ridicule, and being really physical in basketball practice without actually hurting him. And Steve was basically doing the same thing. And nods when they were in the same parking lot. And maybe occasional smiles. And, damn it, Billy Hargrove had an infectious smile- when it wasn’t his mean smile. Hell, even his mean smile was hot. Yeah, he could think it in his own head without any consequences on his daily life. Except that he’d known how many days it was till Valentine’s Day for way too many days for someone who doesn’t have a girlfriend… or a boyfriend. Also, the racist dad is definitely also the homophobic dad, so he didn’t need to make Billy’s life more difficult.

“Do you know what today is?” Billy asked him. In the hallway. Other people were vaguely around, though not that close- not anyone Steve knew anyway, and Steve knew all the seniors, at least by name- didn’t he? And some of the juniors.

“Two- ah, twelfth of February,” Steve stumbled through. He was going to say two days before Valentine’s Day, because he was an idiot. Oh, but it totally sounded like he was going to say Tuesday, and that wouldn’t have been weird, because it actually _ was _ Tuesday. “Tuesday,” he added, probably too late. Billy was inspecting him.

“Lincoln’s Birthday,” he answered his own question.

Of course it was.

“Not in Indiana,” Steve replied, proud of that come back. His dad would complain about that. His dad didn’t like change, or surprises. So he definitely wouldn’t like his son’s thoughts about the blond California boy, or anything not company presentable. But he also wouldn’t hit Steve for it or call him slurs.

“Weird fucking state,” Billy mumbled. “School was going to give you the day after Thanksgiving off anyway,” he complained.

“But government workers get it off too. And we weren’t going to get Lincoln’s birthday off either way. The good old days are behind us.”

“Still the good old days in Cali,” Billy said. Steve wondered in how many ways that was true for Billy.

  
  


*****Thursday, February 14th, 1985*****

“_ Someone _has had every book on Valentine’s day checked out since mid January,” Steve complained.

“That’s not that long. They’re not even overdue. The librarians all think I’m sweet.”

“Yeah, well, you’re competitive as shit over stuff that wasn’t supposed to be some competition,” Steve grumbled. “I know there was an old Saint Valentine, and he probably died some horrible death, because it seems like they all did. And then, the holiday was probably popularized because of like people who sold flowers and candy and cards.”

“The Catholic Church recognizes _ three _ Saint Valentines,” Billy corrected. “But yeah, they were all killed. One for like freeing prisoners, which isn’t romantic, so we kick that one out. One was in prison and fell in love with the jailer’s daughter, and maybe wrote a letter signing it, ‘Your Valentine.’ The stories get mixed up. But the other one’s the best anyway. A Roman Emperor, Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers. Because they had less to lose dying, or less distracted, or some shit. So he made it illegal for young men to get married. Valentine thought that was bullshit and married young couples anyway. Priest marrying people who weren’t allowed to marry by the law? Seems like a pretty badass guy,” Billy shrugged.

“That’s really cool,” Steve agreed. “Seemed like you didn’t have to check out all the books so I didn’t find out for myself though.”

“You don’t need to be wasting time with that shit. You need to spend more time studying.”

“And you don’t?” Steve challenged.

“Yeah, I don’t,” Billy said easily.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you’re smarter than me- you don’t have to rub it in,” Steve said.

Billy smirked, “I’d say that proper grammar says you should have said ‘I’ instead of ‘me’, but I’m personally okay with a fluid language that changes over time, and anyone that says ‘smarter than I’ sounds like an asshole.”

Steve liked Billy’s smirk.

They hadn’t kissed since… well, they’d only kissed the one time, and mistletoe hardly counted, right? He’d kissed a lot of girls under the mistletoe at Christmas parties before. And once Tommy- on the cheek, of course. The one with Billy hadn’t been on the cheek.

And Steve wanted it to happen again.

“There was also an old Roman fertility festival where they sacrificed a goat and slapped women and crops with the bloody goat skin to make them more fertile. And bachelors drew a woman’s name from a big urn and they- paired off for the night, and sometimes got married. A pope got rid of it and replaced it with Valentine’s Day,” Billy shrugged.

“Ah- well, good for the goats. And- probably everyone else. I wouldn’t want to get stuck with someone who’s random name I drew. I’ll take the priest with the secret marriages.”

Billy hummed someone neutral.

Steve really wanted to kiss Billy Hargrove.

And Billy’s smirk said that he knew it.

*****Tuesday, February 19th, 1985*****

“So, Mardi Gras,” Steve initiated. The kids were in AV club, and would need to be picked up eventually, but not yet, and he’d found Billy alone in the gym. It hadn’t been the first time. They’d been a little more awkward after Valentines’ Day, and it wasn’t just in Steve’s head. “Fat Tuesday. Cleaning out all the good food before Lent,” he said. Because he’d already known all that. Even though the Harrington’s were the Christmas and Easter sort when he was younger, and not even that when he got older. And when they could start leaving him at home alone for days at a time. “They say it’s crazy in New Orleans,” he added.

Billy nodded.

“Could be fun to go there someday,” Steve said, when he hadn’t gotten much of a response from Billy.

“You wanna see all the girls flashing their tits for beads?” Billy asked.

That…

“Ah, well… that would probably be kind of awkward, especially if I knew the girl. But it still sounds like the place could be a fun party.”

“It’s also about letting out the demons, so they leave you alone for a while,” Billy commented. Taking a shot that missed badly for Billy. “You got any demons you want to let out, Harrington?”

Steve couldn’t help but think of the demodogs, and everything else that day.

“Uh- not that I can think of?”

“Really?” Billy asked. He was sweaty and shirtless. “Because you’re looking at me like you’ve got some demons you want to work out.” Steve couldn’t judge his expression.

But he got the words.

“Ah- well, I don’t think there’s anything demonic about the way I look at you.”

“Some people would say otherwise. Most people.”

“I- yeah, that’s probably true. But- not the people I care about,” Steve said. Wondering what his dad would think. Probably they wouldn’t talk about it. Probably he’d stop hearing about how he should join the family business for good.

“My dad would,” Billy said. “Would probably slap me around until it was too suspicious, and then move us across the country,” Billy said. “Or probably just kick me out, now that I’m eighteen,” he said.

That… move across the country...

“That sucks,” Steve answered.

“Yeah, it does,” Billy said.

“But- _ you- _ don’t think it’s demonic, right?” He couldn’t stand Billy hating himself for how he felt. It was difficult enough figuring stuff out without all that.

“Praying it away never worked,” Billy muttered. “Maybe it wasn’t so bad to begin with.”

“Shit, Billy, shove me away if you need,” Steve said, stepping closer, arms spread.

Billy rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop him. Froze up some, in fact.

Steve Harrington liked hugs. In the past several years, he hadn’t hugged anyone this close to his height- not a real hug anyway. His face was in line with the side of Billy’s face.

He kissed Billy’s cheek.

Billy manhandled him around and kissed his mouth.

“No one can know,” was what Billy said after. Not the most romantic thing, but understandable.

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve said.

If he had anything to say about it, they wouldn’t go that long between kisses again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Indiana has a state holiday for “Lincoln’s Birthday” the day after Thanksgiving, and for ‘Washington’s Birthday’ on Christmas Eve. In practice, these are just commonly called Black Friday and Christmas Eve, and it’s clearly just because they want to give those days off work for at least state employees, and private sector can do whatever they want. Technically, the governor can just move these holidays around, but they seem to have been in those places since 1979. From what I can tell… in most states, kids got off school for Lincoln and Washington’s birthdays before 1971, and after that, they got off school for Presidents’ Day instead, and now Indiana kids get Presidents’ Day too- I’m not sure about in 1985. From what I can tell, some schools in California are still closed on Feb 12th-ish for Lincoln’s birthday, and I think more of them were in 1985.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

*****Sunday, March 17th, 1985*****

*****Steve*****

Billy snorted, “So, you remembered the day and chose not to wear green anyway,” he observed.

“Maybe I forgot,” Steve put in.

“You plan a  _ party _ for a bunch of _ thirteen-year-olds _ , at your parents’ house, when they aren’t home, and you forgot what day it is? And you realize that most eighteen year olds plan a very different kind of party when their parents are gone?”

Yeah.

“My parents are gone a lot. Last time I had a party, we ditched Barbara by the pool and coupled off to have sex, and Barbara was never seen again,” Steve said, and took a drink of beer.

“Shit,” Billy hissed.

“Yeah. She was out by the pool- which now kind of freaks me out. She didn’t drown or anything. It was… the- woods- stuff. But the kids are fine. Hopper’s out there. And I’m pretty sure Nancy brought a handgun.” And Eleven was there.

“Why did you plan a party at a place that freaks you out?” Billy asked.

Steve shrugged, “Honestly? Maybe so you’d bring Max over? Wasn’t going to see you on Saint Patrick’s Day if I didn’t make it happen, now was I?”

“Shit, Harrington,” Billy hissed, “And you  _ still _ didn’t put on green.”

“Maybe I wanted you to pinch me,” Steve whispered. It was maybe trying too hard.

Billy went for it anyway and full on grabbed his ass. And kissed his mouth.

“Want to borrow a swimsuit?” Steve asked when they broke apart. He felt like he could face the pool now.  
“Indiana boy, it’s cold as shit,” Billy complained. His silky green shirt was unbuttoned almost all the way, but his jean jacket was still on.

“Pool’s heated. Colossal waste of money, I know. I’ve swam in it in January before. Or, if you didn’t want to get in and you buttoned that shirt and wore a thicker coat, you  _ might _ think differently,” Steve pointed out. “I know you had one in January.”

“Supposed to be spring and shit,” Billy complained. “Been more than six weeks since the damned groundhog,” he complained.

“The kids told me that spring starts with the vernal equinox, that’s in three days,” Steve said. He’d wondered if it counted as a holiday.

“I know,” Billy answered. “Not going to be warmer here then either,” he complained.

“Could have worn a thicker coat,” Steve repeated.

“Would have ruined the look,” Billy groused.

“It’s a good look,” Steve praised. “For dropping your sister off at a party.”

“Harrington, you ain’t as subtle as you think. I knew you wanted me here,” Billy said, giving Steve the smirk he’d wanted.

“So, Saint Patrick,” Steve started. “The ‘Apostle of Ireland’. Brought Christianity to a lot of people there. We celebrate around the day he died- which is weird, but whatever- but, they don’t know exactly what year he died, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t like beheading or stoning or something, so- good for him,” he said, losing steam at the end.

“My mom’s an Irish Catholic,” Billy said.

“Oh, really?” Steve said, because what else could he say to that?

“Not a very good one. What with the sex before marriage, not going to mass regularly, and the  _ murder _ ,” he said. “Her mom didn’t want anything to do with her for years. Tried later, but maybe it was too fucking late,” he said.

“That sucks,” Steve said. Which he knew he’d said to Billy before.

“Yeah.

“You wanna… tell me a good memory about her?” Steve tried, bracing himself for a shove.

Billy paused. “Yeah. We- used to go to the beach. Mostly in hours when I should have been in school like a normal kid, but it made the place pretty empty if you went to the right spots. I loved it. Surfed, built sand castles, swam even when the water was cold. Southern California water cold, not Indiana cold. It was good.”

“Good.”

  
  


*****Saturday, May 11th, 1985***** Mother’s Day

“Mother’s Day tomorrow,” Steve murmured. “That- going to be okay at your house?” he asked. They wouldn’t see each other, like they hadn’t on Easter, but he wished he’d asked then, so he did this time. They’d dropped off the kids at the arcade, and Billy hadn’t driven off right away.

“Already bought Susan flowers,” Billy muttered.

“That’s nice. My- parents are in town. We’ll go out to lunch. Got any Mother’s Day trivia?” He asked, “Other than it being a greeting card scam?”

“After Easter and Christmas Eve, it’s the next most popular church-going day of the year. We went some years- to mass. Only time my father went, I think. Sometimes he’d drag us to a Protestant church on Easter- the particular denomination didn’t really matter. Mom sometimes took me to mass when dear old dad wasn’t around. But, we’ve done a lot of talking about my mother, what about yours?”

“Ah, well, you’ll get two parent stories for the price of one, because they’re pretty connected. I think they still really love each other. Dated since high school. Married after my dad graduated business school, and my mother had been working as a secretary after a certificate program. Didn’t have me till like almost fifteen years after they got married. I think kinda like- because they thought people should have kids? Dad wanted someone- probably a boy- to carry on the family business. I don’t think they tried for kids before or after me, but I probably wouldn’t know if they had. I wonder what I’d have been like with siblings sometimes. I wasn’t always the responsible babysitter type, you know?”

“I figured maybe a quarter of the words that came out from Tommy Hagan’s mouth about you were true.”

“Probably more than that, unfortunately. Did you ask for stories?” Steve shot back.

“You know I wanted to know about King Steve.”

“Steve the Babysitter is a much happier guy.”

  
  


*****Monday, May 27th, 1985*****

He was a high school graduate. It felt like that should mean something more, but it really wasn’t that hard. It felt like everything was different and yet nothing was. He was still living with his parents. Had his crappy job for the summer because he wanted to be around for- for the kids’ last summer before high school. And for Billy’s last summer break ever. He just… things didn’t have to change yet. So, he got a crappy teenage job and requested the same hours that Billy was working. And, the kids could, and definitely would, visit him at the mall.

Because Hawkins had a  _ mall _ now. He would have loved that at their age.

But, he was able to make the crappy teenage job a little less crappy because he could look like a mature adult with goals. High school graduate attending the Indianapolis Police Academy in the fall. (Though, really, calling it an ‘Academy’ when it lasted about three months seemed a little excessive. It wasn’t technically required to be a sheriff’s deputy in Hawkins, but he wouldn’t ask Hopper to take him with no experience at all- well, nothing that he could explain to anyone.) That maturity got him assistant manager-ship, which was a stupid title because he would be on shift with one other worker, so why couldn’t he just be straight up manager? But whatever. It came with fifty cents more an hour and he didn’t have to wear the hat. He argued hard for that last part. But hey, free ice cream- which he’d just end up giving to the kids, but whatever. It was money and was a place they’d visit him.

Robin, his shift partner, seemed cool. She totally wasn’t respecting the assistant manager thing, but he was also pretty sure he was only a year older than she was with objectively no better qualifications, so whatever.  _ He _ didn’t have to wear the hat.

“Harrington, get me some ice cream,” Billy demanded, striding in like he owned the place. His hair was wet in natural curls- which probably meant he’d been forced to jump in the pool on the first day, which didn’t bode well. Steve was already getting it for him.

“That’ll be a buck seventy five, and those were two  _ generous _ scoops, Harrington,“ Robin observed.

“Uh-uh, I get the friends and family discount for not beating Harrington’s face in or making comments about him being mother to that hoard of kids. I’d be worried about him trying to corrupt my little step sister, but she’s tougher than Princess Harrington,” Billy went on as Steve handed him the double scoop on the waffle cone. Steve’s shift was over in less than ten minutes, and they’d hang out. He gave it several good licks before leaving.

“Shit, I had no idea,” Robin hissed when Billy was gone. They’d meet in the parking lot.

“What?” Steve asked. He was almost done with his third day, but it had been Billy’s first, and Steve wanted to talk about it. It probably hadn’t been warm long enough for almost anyone to actually  _ want _ to swim at the pool on Memorial Day, but it was tradition for the pools to open, and apparently, Billy had had to get in. Unless maybe he’d just taken a shower afterwards to wash off sunscreen or something. They were going to cook burgers at Steve’s place that evening. His parents were, unsurprisingly, out of town.

“At least half the girls that come in here are at least vaguely interested in you, and you seem like you have the least game on the planet. But you’re gay!” she said like- weirdly excitedly.

_ What the fuck?  _ Steve whirled around, looking. Empty. It was a stupid acusation anyway.

“Uh- I’m not. Everyone at school would tell you how in love I was with Nancy Wheeler last year,” Steve shrugged like it didn’t matter.

“Dating a girl, maybe even falling in love, doesn’t mean you’re not gay,” she said dismissively. “I thought you were really striking out with all those girls, but you weren’t even really trying. Wow, Steve Harrington. I didn’t think you reciprocated. You  _ know _ he’s totally hot for you, right? Like has been since he came to Hawkins. It’s like pulling on the girl’s pigtails- but more problematic and violent, but, hey, not my relationship”

Steve wasn’t sure what panic his face was saying. “I really couldn’t speak to that,” he said.

“Oh, man, I thought I was observant. You’re totally  _ dating Billy Hargrove _ ,” she said.

No one in the store. No reason to panic. It would just make him look guiltier. Could he get one of them to change shifts? But he needed to stay working when Billy was… “We’re good friends,” Steve said firmly.

“Bullshit,” she said. Steve still didn’t really like that word after Nancy.

“Look, I like you, Robin, but I don’t know you that well, and that’s the kind of talk that gets people disowned and beaten up, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” she said more seriously. “I should have noticed sooner, but I hardly saw you guys together. I spent a lot of time staring at you in English class because Tammy Thompson was always staring at you, and... I wanted her to look at  _ me _ like that,” Robin said in a rush.

“Okay...” okay. Okay. “I  _ might _ be bisexual, and  _ might _ be interested in Billy, but we’re just friends, and I could never say any different. And I’m not ashamed of it, but it isn’t something I want getting out to make my life harder. Not sure the Police Academy would be a good place for that. But, I’m definitely not interested in Tammy Thompson. Good luck with that. I really don’t have good advice there. She’s going to be a senior, yeah? Like you.”

“And like Billy. Is your relationship going to survive the different environments?” Robin pressed. Totally ignoring Steve’s assertion that they were just friends, apparently.

“I’m probably going to come home most weekends… or some friends might theoretically come to visit me,” Steve said. “I’ll have my own place up there,” he shrugged. Part of why he was working a crappy job this summer. And actually accepting money when the kids parents sometimes pushed it on him for looking after the kids. He felt bad, because he’d do it anyway. But the Sinclair’s and the Wheelers made good money, he knew, and sometimes Mrs. Henderson wouldn’t take no for an answer. And Scoops Ahoy said that if the summer went well, he could pick up some weekend shifts in the fall if he wanted. If Billy was busy for part of some weekends, maybe he would.

“Steve Harrington,” Robin repeated. “You’re way cooler than I thought.”

“Hey, I’m way cooler than you have any idea,” Steve bragged. Helping to save the world even in not major ways was definitely cool points, even if it was secret. “And now I gotta go,” he said.

“Robin seems really cool,” Steve said, wording how he was going to word any of this without freaking Billy out. “Not that you have any reason to be worried.” That was… new. Almost saying things in almost-public when no one was around. He could just mean that Robin wasn’t a threat to taking over a best friend position.

Billy smirked, “Do you say that because you would never fool around, or because you found out that she’s a pretty little dyke?” Billy asked. That was...

Steve might have done a stupid fish impression, “Is that offensive?” he asked.

“I’m an offensive guy,” Billy shrugged. “But coming from me, she’d probably be more offended by the categorization of ‘pretty little.’ We’ve... shared looks when she’s mooning over Thompson- who she really needs to get over- girl wants to marry into money- she stopped looking at you much when you started talking about the police academy instead of your old man’s business.”

“Ah- well, that’s shitty. So... Memorial Day, huh? Pretty straight forward holiday. I guess we mess with the reverence with it being like- summer fun, but maybe that’s okay? To have fun while remembering the bad? I don’t know,” Steve rambled. Sometimes you needed fun to get through the hard shit. “I didn’t know it started for Civil War, I guess. Seems like… a long time ago to still have… I don’t even know enough to comment I guess, but- all that stuff not worked out.”

“Doesn’t seem like that long ago when you grow up with a racist old man. Probably doesn’t seem that long ago to Sinclair, definitely not to his parents, his grandparents. And Sinclair’s lucky. At a good school, parents who care about him and have enough money, those weirdo friends. Lot of kids have it worse.”

“I- yeah, they’re really good kids. They- there was this thing one time, last Halloween, where they were dressed as the ghostbusters, and there’s four of them, and there were four of the kids, and Lucas didn’t want to get stuck being the black one because he’s not as good and not a scientist- and I mean I haven’t seen the movie, but it’s really shitty if the black guy is the lame one, and apparently Lucas and Mike got into a fight into it, because they couldn’t both be Venkman- who’s apparently the best one- and Dustin was annoyed with them both. And then they like forgot about it because they were embarrassed that no one else was wearing a costume, and they pretty quickly were way past it because there was the science demon shit. But I still felt sorry for black kids stuck being um not-Venkman,” he said.

“Winston Zeddemore. And for the record, Winston’s cool. Just not someone who would appeal as much to the science nerd kids. But he knows shit.”

“Well that’s- better. Still shitty.”

“It’s all shitty. Like war’s shitty. You got dead soldiers in your family, Harrington? To honor on Memorial Day?” Billy asked.

“Probably far enough back, but I’ve never asked. As I understand it, the more recent Harrington family has a tradition of exemptions and flat feet,” Steve shrugged.

“My mother’s father died at war- Korea, when she was just a kid. Maybe if he hadn’t she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant so young and married my dad. Maybe she wouldn’t have gone fucking crazy, and her life would have been better. Or maybe he was shit too, or maybe it didn’t matter.”

“Well… I’m really glad they had you,” Steve said.

Billy knocked his shoulder against Steve’s. It felt like a ‘thanks.’


	4. Chapter 4

*****Saturday, June 15th, 1985*****

“You going to be okay tomorrow?” Steve asked.

“Fine. He told Susan to tell me what cigars he wanted, since I can buy them now. Because cigars are classy, unlike cigarettes. Susan’s making his favorite meals- which doesn’t make it much different than any other day.”

“Well, my house will be parent-free if you need an escape and can manage it,” Steve offered, knowing it wasn’t likely. Billy didn’t like his car being near Harrington’s place for no reason, for one.

“Your parents aren’t around for Father’s Day, but they were for Mother’s Day?”

“I guess Mother’s Day is a bigger deal? Business trip. Chicago, I think. I have a number for where they’ll be, and a time to call. Which is more than most trips. And I guess from ten to four the house will be really empty, because I’ll be dishing out ice cream to dads and kids, but whatever.”

“I wish I could work the day,” Billy complained.

“Extra ice cream for you Monday,” Steve offered.

“Yeah, whatever.” But Steve knew the gesture was appreciated more than the ice cream.

  
  


*****Wednesday, July 3rd, 1985*****

*****Billy*****

“Mrs. Wheeler,” Billy greeted neutrally.

“Hello, Billy,” she said. She was hot. Not even really needing a disclaimer ‘for her age’ or ‘for having three kids’. Billy could appreciate that she was hot without wanting her, or even wanting her to want him. She’d been flirting with him for weeks, but it had gotten more pointed recently.

“Is Mr. Wheeler a good man?” he asked.

“Oh- yes, of course.”

“Not ‘of course’. Not all men are. Does he hit you? Belittle you? Not pay attention to what you say?”

“He’s a  _ good man _ , and a good father,” she said, standing up straighter.

“Then, why don’t you go home and see if you can fall in love with him? Or at least be happy. And if you can’t, do him the courtesy of filing for divorce before you contemplate having sex with eighteen year olds. And whether you stay with him or leave, go buy yourself a damn vibrator. Will get you in less trouble than lifeguards.”

“I- wouldn’t actually  _ do _ anything,” she said.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Billy answered, even though he was sure of no such thing. “Have a good day, Mrs. Wheeler.”

He’d just been driving to get out. Steve’s parents were in town, or he’d have risked it and gone there.

This town had too much weird shit.

Billy’s last coherent thought was that he hadn’t believed lately that he deserved hell.

*****Thursday, July 4th, 1985*****

*****Steve*****

All of this was crazy.

Shit.

Billy hadn’t shown up for their after work hang out, and they hadn’t been able to see each other the day before, and Steve had gotten worried.

Billy hadn’t left the pool.

The kids had him cornered in a sauna when he got there.

He didn’t need the kids to tell him that that wasn’t Billy.

Steve pushed to the small window anyway.

“Billy, look at me. I know you’re in there, please. You are so strong, Billy. I know you can beat this. Please let me know you’re there.”

Billy screamed.

Max cried.

Shit.

Steve just started talking over it, “Billy, there’s so much good in your life. We’ve got this summer together, and then you’ll be back in school but I’m going to see you every weekend for those three months, and then I’m going to be back all the time, and we’ll get a place. Probably a shitty little one bedroom, but it’ll be the best damn place in the world. And then you’ll graduate. And, after that, if you want us to move anywhere, we’ll do it. And, if you want, you’ll go to college. Because you’re so smart. I know it’s hot in there, but you love the heat. It’s laying in the sun for eight hours straight on the hottest day of the year, except you’re not going to get a sunburn.”

He was still screaming.

“Billy, you’ve got this. You’re the baddest badass there ever was, and I need you to beat this so badly. Billy, I love you so much,” Steve confessed. One kid hushed another, but Steve couldn't pay attention to that.

Billy looked right at him, and his eyes were blue.

“Yeah, Billy, that’s it Billy, just think about me and keep being strong. I love you so much. El, can you do anything?” Steve begged. “Billy, stay with me, stay with me. Max is here too. She can visit us when we have our own place. Billy, please. I love you so much. I didn’t want to tell you like this. I- I should have told you ages ago. Should have told you on Valentine’s Day, because I loved you already. I love you so much. We’re going to watch the fireworks together. And I was- and I’m  _ going to _ hold your hand. And you’re going to tell me all the Fourth of July trivia you have. Like about Adams and Jefferson both died fifty years to the day after the Declaration of Independence was approved. Except better stuff than that. How about how it wasn’t actually signed until August second. I didn’t learn that in any class. And I got some two dollar bills, because it has the signing on the back, even if I know it’s not the right day. I’m gonna buy us dinner at a stand with them, and give you one. I got a bunch of them from the Jefferson’s birthday run with the stamps on them, and am going to slip one in your pocket- I’ll have to be sneakier now that you know. And I got a bunch of them, because I want to do it next year too, and the next, and a whole lot of years I want us to have together, Billy.”

Billy coughed black, and Steve screamed, “Billy!”

“No, it’s good!” Will said.

“Billy, you’re doing so great!” Steve praised with wet eyes. “I love you so much. And- I know we haven’t been doing this long, but I got attached quick. One day- one day, if you don’t beat me to it, I’m going to propose. And it’s going to be under mistletoe, and maybe it’ll be on a December nineteenth, or maybe it will be in the middle of May, so you don’t expect it. And I really think we’ll be able to legally get married one day. But I don’t even care about that. Maybe we’ll find a priest who will marry us even though it’s against the law like Saint Valentine. Yeah? That would be the best. And I do want a ring,” Steve confessed.

Billy kept coughing up black and shaking, but he was looking right at Steve now, through the sauna door.

“But if you want, we’ll go wherever legalizes it first- France, or some place like that, we’ll do it. And it’ll be great.”

Billy was still coughing goo until he scrambled backwards, blinking, locking eyes with Steve again.

“Steve,” he said, and his voice was wrecked.

Steve was fumbling at the lock on the door.

“El, unlock it,” Steve ordered.

“That’s  _ crazy _ ,” Mike insisted. No one asked him.

“Steve…” Dustin put a hand on his shoulder, “He was spitting out goo a second ago. Can we… can you ask him secret questions or something, at least?”

“He’d know the answers,” Billy croaked, “Burn it. Burn the whole damned building.”

“Yeah, we’ll burn the black stuff after you get out. El, the door?” Steve prompted.

“You can never know I’m safe. Just leave. Make it look like an accident or something. People in the town have to be used to weird shit by now.”

“Hell no. I just confessed love to you, and you expect me to kill you? Hell fucking no,” Steve said.

“You can leave,” Billy said, totally calmly as he shook in the corner. “Little Wheeler can do it. It’s in his eyes that he could,” Billy said.

“What? Hey!” Mike objected. “I- only- only if it was the only way to save other people. I’m not...” Mike drifted out, clearly upset, but Steve couldn’t deal with that right now.

“Fucking  _ hell no _ ,” Steve insisted again. He absently thought that he didn’t like to curse this much in front of the kids. Though they were all foul-mouthed before he met them.

“Your life would be a hell of a lot easier if you settled down with a Tammy Thompson instead of me,” Billy said, looking at the ceiling.

“Fuck you. You don’t get to make anything that  _ horrible _ be romantic. You’re going to get out of here, and we’re going to have a wonderful, long life together. Or we’re going to die together killing some demonic shit, but not like this. You feeling possessed? Where’s the damned key?” he said to anyone else. He snatched up a fire extinguisher and rams it against the lock. No effect. “El?” he asked, whirling on the teenage wonder girl.

“Billy, are you okay?” Max croaked. She’d been crying.

“I mean… he just asked to  _ die _ to protect the world- or to make Steve’s life easier. Pretty sure that’s not an Upside Down Mindflayer thing,” Dustin said.

“Could be a trick,” Mike said, but he seemed doubtful. “Will?”

“Let him out,” Will said.

El twitched a few fingers and the lock fell open.

Steve was in the miserably hot sauna a moment later scrambling over towards Billy, who was in full panic.

“Don’t you fucking touch me Harrington. Got this shit all over me and you aren’t going to fucking touch it,” he said.

“Fine, shower and then I hug you, and then we see if the world is still in danger,” Steve listed his priorities.

“I was… mine was the mind, but there were others,” Billy said. “I- don’t know if they function now or not.”

“Yeah, yeah, shower real good, and then we’ll go get them. Happy Fourth of July.” It occurred to him a second later that he could have said ‘Happy Independence Day’- freedom from the mind monster. But he wasn’t that quick on his feet with words, and wasn’t ready to joke yet anyway.

“I’m following you,” Max shouted. “Make sure you pull the curtain really closed,” she said. Good. Because Steve wanted to follow, but there were five pairs of eyes still staring at him, and maybe he needed to deal with this when Billy couldn’t hear.

He waited for the door to close behind Billy and Max.

“It seems dead, think we should still set it on fire?” Dustin asked.

“There’s probably a lighter in Billy’s things,” Mike said, looking around. Kid needed a job to do.

“It’s dead,” Will said firmly.

Steve decided that was good enough.

“Well, going to say anything? Is it ‘question my life choices’ time?” Steve sighed, sitting down on a bench. He wanted to be on the floor, but maybe he needed more dignity than that.

“I mean- that was top five craziest shit I’ve seen. But not so much what you said? I mean, I know you’ve got  _ feelings _ and stuff, and I know your dating advice got way better this year, and I figured it was a guy,” Dustin shrugged.

“What? How?” Steve asked. Did he send off a vibe? His father had certainly never picked up on it- not that the old man was around enough.

“Because you didn’t say ‘she’. You’d say, ‘this theoretical person I might have feelings for’.

“I thought it was Billy,” Will said quietly. Which- wow.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Steve said. “Billy’s dad isn’t a good guy. Whatever Max has said, he’s probably worse than that. He  _ can’t know _ , not while Billy lives there. I don’t know how I can possibly leave Hawkins for months as it is. Might put it off a year,” he said. Or see how hard it is to register Billy for his senior year in Indianapolis without parental anything.

“We have a guest room,” Dustin said. “He could stay,” the boy said.

This had everyone, especially Steve staring at him.

“You know, assuming any of us make it out alive,” Dustin clarified.

“And what would your mom think?” Steve asked.

“Well, she’d want to know why he wasn’t living at home, but she’d get it. She has a gay brother. My grandparents weren’t cool at first. Made him talk to psychiatrists and stuff- I guess I don’t know details, but I think trying to make him straight. Really shitty, I’m sure. They’ve apologized years ago now, but Thanksgiving and Christmas can be tense sometimes, so usually we don’t all get together.”

“Uh- thanks yeah. I’ll talk to Billy. I don’t know if… thanks, man. I- really didn’t mean it to come out like this. I hadn’t said…” He hadn’t told Billy he loved him before, and now Billy was out of his sight after he’d been through really traumatic stuff. Steve looked at the closed door. He didn’t know the layout of this place, but it couldn’t be hard to find the showers.

“I mean, it was un-match-ably  _ epic _ . Like, no movie could ever hold up to that, and it was  _ real _ . Like, he could have died, and you were all, I love you and want to marry you and don’t care what the whole world says. Also, when it’s cold and you’re not in town, we’ll want rides from someone, and he has a cool car.”

Bless Dustin Henderson.

Steve looked around at the rest of them.

Will was smiling a little.

Lucas looked uncomfortable, but who wouldn’t be? Steve was uncomfortable as hell.

Mike was still doing his self-crisis thing, because Billy had asked the boy to kill him… and El just looked curious. She probably hadn’t seen many relationships up close before, at least not of adults- if he and Billy counted as adults- maybe she’d just seen the dance around each other that Hopper and Mrs. Byers were doing. The idea that he and Billy could be… instrumental in what this kid thought relationships were like was… weird? And pretty cool. Definitely weird. Steve wanted to go to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

*****Friday, August 2nd, 1985*****

On the anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, Steve snuck one of those two dollar bills into Billy’s ice cream cone. Billy made a face and demanded fresh ice cream, but he wiped off and pocketed the bill.

Robin laughed. She and Billy were friends, which made Steve feel better about leaving town for a few months in the fall. People probably would think that Billy and Robin were dating, if they didn’t already, but Steve wouldn’t mind that. Robin might.

The last month had been great. The chance to spend days handing out scoops of ice cream seemed like a pleasure after the monster and Russians, which hadn’t been much of a problem with the monster-mind dead. Basically, Steve’s boyfriend was a badass. And there was a secret base under the mal… which wasn’t the weirdest thing about Hawkins, and, the military was handling that part quietly- after their party did all the difficult parts.

Steve didn’t mind some normality.

*****Monday, September 2nd, 1985*****

“Unions, labor markets, Labor Day,” Steve said in the morning. Billy had spent the night because Steve would leave that evening, and neither of them wanted to waste time. His key to his apartment was waiting for him under the mat, if no one had stolen it since it had probably been there since Friday, maybe Saturday. But he wasn’t going any earlier than needed.

They hadn’t even really fooled around the night before, just… hanging out- mostly. Minor fooling around.

Billy would start back at school the next day too. That was what Labor Day really meant. One more day before school started.

Steve would call when he got the phone set up.

He’d already threatened Dustin against listening in.

*****Monday, October 14th, 1985

“Harrington, what do you know about Christopher Columbus?” Billy asked him.

“Well, the kids are excited to get school off for it, and I’m jealous that I missed out. But I’m here now, so I can’t complain. And I know that in fourteen ninety two Columbus sailed the ocean blue? And he ah- ‘discovered’ America, but really the first European was some viking was first in Canada, and Columbus was the Carribean and later some of South America. And he was a really bad guy to the natives- who were the actual discoverers of America like… thousands of years ago. Which, full disclosure, I know most of that because I asked Nancy, and it was depressing.”

“You asked  _ Wheeler _ to help you study for a holiday thing,” Billy stated.

“Yeah, well, I checked two books out from the library on him, but didn’t get much further than the table of contents and some pictures- mostly maps- which I realize makes me sound like I’m ten,” he said.

“Closer to five,” Billy put in because he could.

“I definitely couldn’t have read that table of contents when I was five. We weren’t all geniuses,” Steve said. Even though he knew Billy’s education hadn’t been regular enough for him to have probably been reading then either.

“Yeah, it’s not really a fun holiday, because he was an asshole,” Billy complained.

“Yeah, that sucks. But, at the moment, I’m just happy for a long weekend to see you. Can I get a kiss after  _ my _ long voyage?” he asked.

“Less likely after saying that.”

Point taken, but Steve got the kiss anyway.

*****Thursday, October 31st, 1985*****

Billy was skipping school Friday to drive up on Thursday afternoon. Because Mrs. Henderson’s stance was that he was a grown man who was more than earning his room, and she wasn’t his minder- and she would definitely approve of the trip anyway. Officially, Billy was helping her out around the house and driving around Dustin in exchange for the room, food, and a little spending money she insisted on. And he was eighteen and friends with the sheriff, and would stop by the house to pick up Max often, but would never go inside. It worked.

Billy would mostly hang out with Robin, Steve knew, but also with the kids, and even Nancy and Jonathan. They all knew about him and Steve by now. Steve wished he was there with them all the time. But he wanted to get training to be a good cop. Though there was a lot of time devoted to target practice when he couldn’t picture any human needing to be shot in Hawkins Indiana- (except maybe Neil Hargrove, but Steve wouldn’t do that)- but there was other stuff in the training too- and he did need to be a better shot than Nancy. And there was the high probability of dealing with more non-humans in his future.

But this was a long weekend to not think about that. Except a few hours of training the next day, but whatever.

They had just a movie night at home planned. ‘Home’ being Steve’s shitty, tiny apartment. With movies and beers.

Steve’s throat got tight as he heard Billy opening the door with his own key. It had just been practical since the place came with two, and Billy might arrive some time when Steve was out. It made Steve smile when he used it naturally without knocking.

Yeah, this was a good life.

He laughed when Billy smiled, plastic vampire teeth showing.

“Really?”

Billy shrugged, “I figure I have the monster experience down.”

Steve frowned.

“Hey, relax,” Billy said. “You’ve got to admit I make a pretty sexy monster. Had you confessing your love to me in front of a room full of kids.”

“Yeah, I guess I did. Who knows how long that might have been put off otherwise.”

“Not long, you wear your heart on your sleeve all the time, pretty boy.”

“Love you too.”

  
  


*****Monday, November 11th, 1985*****

“Hopper’s a vet,” Steve volunteered. “Drafted for Vietnam. Never heard him talk about it.”

“Sounded like a pretty shit situation to be in,” Billy said.

“Yeah, probably,” Steve said. “I mean, definitely. I- certainly don’t want to be. Just- some of the other guys in the Academy are veterans, and they have this- closer bond than the rest. None of them knew each other before, but they just- instantly started hanging out. They’re older too. The other guys- and the two women- don’t really fit as well. And- I certainly can’t talk about the weird stuff I’ve seen. Monsters and Russians aren’t exactly ordinary cop talk. They’ll think I’m crazy.”

“You’ve got a tighter group, probably a better group too. How many of them are going to take on demons with a baseball bat?”

  
  


*****Thursday, November 28th, 1985*****

“I’m pretty thankful for you,” Steve said.

“Oh, shut-up, cheesy shit.”

“You know you love it.”

“Fuck, Harrington, just because I  _ love _ you, doesn’t mean I love all the shit that comes out of your mouth.”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to occupy my mouth in another way.”

“Fuck.”

Billy came to spend the long weekend with him in Indianapolis. Which Steve felt guilty about, because his mother had asked if he’d be home, but they’d already made plans. He told himself he’d see them more when he moved back to Hawkins in a week.

  
  


*****Friday, November 29th, 1985*****

“Happy Lincoln’s Birthday!” Steve declared happily.

“The man was born in  _ February _ ,” Billy groaned.

“And in Indiana, we celebrate in November. By buying a lot of stuff for Christmas for some reason.”

“You know no one actually calls today Lincoln’s Birthday? It’s Black Friday.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say, but Hoosiers know about it.”

“I’m not a fuckin'  _ Hoosier _ . Sounds stupid.” But Billy hadn't mentioned wanting to move when Steve had offered. Steve figured they'd revisit it after Billy's graduation.

Steve loved Hawkins and the people, but sometimes it was nice to be in an anonymous place. Once Steve grabbed Billy’s hand to drag him to a store display he’s seen, Billy didn’t snatch his hand away, so they walked down the sidewalk holding hands. It was perfect. Maybe they could have that anywhere.

  
  


*****Thursday, December 19th, 1985*****

Steve had his own place in Hawkins.  _ Their _ own place, really. Steve would be giving Billy a key as a… sort of anniversary present. A little one bedroom, but not as tiny or shitty as the one in Indianapolis. Rent was cheap in Hawkins. It had a nice little kitchen and living space, and the bedroom was behind a separate door that locked, so he could have a kid crash on the couch if needed. He actually had a couch too.  _ They _ had a couch. They’d made out on it enough. Billy still lived at the Hendersons’, but he’d spent less time there in the last two weeks. He still left at night to sleep in his room at the Hendersons’, and give Dustin a ride in the morning. Though Dustin had said that they should just both come get him in the morning.

Dustin needed to know fewer things.

Or at least keep his mouth shut about it. Ever since getting that girlfriend, he thought he knew everything.

Steve had given himself a Christmas break. Wasn’t starting as a deputy until Billy and the kids went back to school. And Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan.

He’d decorated his little place. A tree that they’d done together, and plenty of mistletoe.

  
  


*****Wednesday, December 25th, 1985*****

They had three Christmases to go to, all of which were non-negotiable.

Mrs. Henderson had decided on lunch, Steve’s own parents for mid-afternoon, the sort of meal that was supposed to count for lunch and dinner on a holiday, and everyone would be at the Byers’ house for dinner.

The Hendersons’ was easy. Just Mrs. Henderson and Dustin, that year at least.

And they could feel so  _ normal _ , or at least Steve did, and he thought Billy did too.

Steve had asked weeks ago if he could bring a friend whose parents were going to be out of town for Christmas. They’d gone with just ‘friend’, because Steve was willing to deal with whatever fallout from his parents, but Billy didn’t want to deal with it on Christmas- and probably hoped he could charm them into liking him first.

Steve thought Billy could probably charm just about anyone.

“My father had an unavoidable business trip,” was the comfortable lie they used. “And my sister- my step-sister, technically- is visiting her father, and her mother had to take her. They invited me, but- he’s… not the greatest man to be around.”

“And your mother?”

“She’s getting the help she needs right now,” he said.

“Oh, poor child,” Steve’s mother consoled.

The Byers’ house might have actually been the most awkward.

“You have a lovely home,” Billy told Joyce.

“Yes, I suppose it is a lot better without the maze of tunnels mapped around the place,” she said with grim humor.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“I understand that you’ve apologized to the wronged parties, and that’s all I can ask.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Get some turkey. And thank you for bringing a pie.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

It got less awkward. There was a little hand holding.

Some talk with Hopper about his future job. Listening to Jane talk about school, really all the kids talking about high school.

Talk about the other teenagers graduating, colleges and jobs. Billy hadn’t decided anything yet. But Steve figured they had survived worse.

  
  


*****Tuesday, December 31st, 1985*****

“I didn’t get to spend last New Year’s with you,” Steve said. They’d gone to see fireworks in the evening and came home and tumbled into bed. They’d hear more at midnight, but Steve didn’t want to move.

“Were you still freaking the fuck out over the mistletoe thing?” Billy asked.

“Not  _ freaking out _ ,” Steve scoffed. “There was definitely no freaking out on my end.”

“I did some freaking out,” Billy admitted.

“You were so smooth, I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Doesn’t take much to be smoother than you, Harrington.”

“Hey, what happened to ‘King Steve’?” Steve asked.

“A lot of things, Harrington. A lot of things.”

Yeah, and that was good. He wouldn’t change anything.


End file.
